So Cold
by Maia's Pen
Summary: One shot. Hephaistion dies, taking Alexander's heart with him. It is my own version of Hephaistion's death scene.


A short story by Maia's Pen.

Dedicated to you, Katherine.

WARNING: If you haven't seen this movie yet, this will spoil the ending. So you might not want to read!

This little story takes place in the scene where Hephaistion dies. It is my own re-mix of the scene. And it was inspired by the song "So Cold" by Breaking Benjamin, but it is not a 'song fic' Please read and I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Alexander or Hephaistion, history does!

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Not even Zeus himself could look into Hephaistion's eyes and resist falling desperately in love with him. His eyes were two mysterious blue seas. Seas that would effortlessly seize and drown the heart of any who dared to let their guard down while in his presence.

There was only one man alive who had unlocked the secrecy of these eyes; and discovered the selfless soul within. Only one man had gotten to experience the unconditional return of that desperate love.

Even before countless nations of people had surrendered themselves to Alexander, Hephaistion's heart was already his. Hephaistion had unconditionally submitted his love and loyalty to his beloved king.

Alexander was utterly shocked when he had received word that Hephaistion was seriously ill. Madness and disbelief overtook him as he raced to his friends' bed chamber. Alexander knew Hephaistion was sick, he understood that illness was never a favorable sight. But the spectacle that awaited him in the bed chamber had him wishing he were suddenly blind.

At first Alexander could only see the blood. The wretched blood which had dared to leave the body of his dearly loved friend. He cursed this blood and envied it all at the same time; for nothing else in this world would ever be closer to Hephaistion that it. Alexander felt instantly nauseous. It was horrifying how this blood had encrusted it's self tightly around Hephaistion's eyes; as if actually trying to force them shut. And yet, simply because it contained the very essence of Hephaistion's life it was a fluid more precious than liquid gold.

Mournful tears slipped softly from Hephaistion's magical seas. There was a regretful sorrow etched delicately across the fine details of his face. Despite this, his eyes radiated affection upon Alexander's golden face. Though colored just as a sapphire, Hephaistion's eyes were far more cherished than any gem.

His skin was frightfully pale, the very hue matching that of the candle wax which was dripping steadily upon bed side table. The candle burned fiercely, as if imitating the fever which ravaged his weak body.

Hephaistion's jaw trembled painfully as he struggled to properly greet his king. His voice, usually so charmingly bold, was little more than a fragile sigh.

Alexander clenched his jaw as terror threatened to consume him. He needed to calm down. After all, the doctor had assured him that Hephaistion had merely mixed the putrid water with the wine. The doctor was certain that if Hephaistion were allowed two or three days of rest he would recover.

Hephaistion's breathing was becoming exceedingly worse. The young man was battling fiercely to feed his lungs even a gasp of air. Each meager breath he succeeded to inhale expired as a thin pant.

A feeling of abrupt alarm inflamed the kings throat. His mouth at once became barren of all moisture; and he wheezed as though he were about to suffocate from an unknown physical attack. It took every ounce of will power Alexander possessed to steady him self. . . Alexander had heard men breathe like this before. He had seen men's eyes tear with blood like this before. He recognized this nightmarish sight, for it was one he had witnessed more times than any soul should ever have too. These were the signs of death.

With hands that had recklessly massacred thousands, Alexander tenderly held Hephaistion's face. The kings thumbs grazed his cheek with the gentleness of a mere feather.

Hephaistion's skin was clammy, and as ice cold as that brilliant shade of blue in his eyes. Hephaistion shuttered faintly as a mild convolution wracked his body. Sweat was pouring down his brow and over Alexander's hands. His sweat was boiling, and it seemed a fearful contrast to the temperature of his flesh.

Alexander made a gallant attempt to conceal his distress; however, the very thought of losing Hephaistion now-- now after everything they had suffered together, after all their wonderful times, after how close they had come to death before. . . the thought was beyond unbearable. It was utterly incomprehensible.

Shrill terror crashed frantically through Alexander's entire being. It was a sensation so insufferably raw that even an Olympic god would have cried out for mercy. Alexander scolded himself rashly. He needed to maintain his wits, to think clearly. In spite of everything, one thing was true: and that was that death had never triumphed before. Surly a grand warrior like Hephaistion was destined to perish on the field of battle-- not from simply drinking the unsanitary local waters. The doctor had to be right. . . Hephaistion was far too healthy, too young, too strong to lose his life in this sort of way. It was absurd!

And yet. . . for a few moments. . . Alexander the Great broke down. He broke down and he begged.

Clinging desperately to Hephaistion's shoulders Alexander wailed out to his dearest friend, pleaded with him not to go away. Hephaistion was the only person in the whole world who really knew him, who really loved him, who understood him and supported him with unwavering devotion. He was not allowed to die.

The glow in Hephaistion's tearful eyes seemed to fade slightly at this moment. Anyone besides Alexander would never have noticed them dim.

The young warrior's breathing was now so shallow that Alexander had to strain to hear any sign of life. And yet, Hephaistion's eyes were fixed lovingly upon him. They melded passionately into Alexander's own brown orbs; overwhelming both men with a mutual current of unspoken emotions.

Admiration. Gratefulness. Sorrow. Undoubtable trust. Regret. And a passion of such intensity that Alexander physically buckled, and unintentionally severed their priceless connection.

Alexander stood up and brusquely walked towards the balcony on the opposite side of the room. As his eyes drank in the stunning view of the Asian landscape before him, he began spilling his heart and his dreams to his dearest Hephaistion. These were real dreams; ones Alexander determined would be very encouraging for his friend. Alexander assured him that they would be most excellent friends forever-- long into old age. He dreamed that they would both have sons; and that their sons would play together and also become bonded friends. The two of them would sit on top of the world, and be blissfully happy because they would always have the company of each other. A grin of sheer delight tugged upon Alexander's lips. His handsome face relaxed slightly as he spoke more and more of his future with Hephaistion at his side.

Hephaistion WAS going to be all right. They had so much unfinished life to live. And they would achieve all their dreams. . . they just had to. Alexander realized something startling at this moment . . . his life was no longer all about the "me" and "I". Everything from this day forward HAD to be about them BOTH, together . . . or else living as a great king no longer held any worth in Alexander's eyes. Having Hephaistion was more valuable than all his conquered nations combined.

The sounds of another violent convulsion echoed from Hephaistion's bed. Alexander was wrenched from his daydreams, his muscular form tensed; but he continued talking about their wonderful future. He talked gently until that suffocating tightness returned to him, tightening his throat until he could not go on.

Alexander nervously caressed the large crimson ring on his finger. It usually brought him great comfort, for it was a gift from Hephaistion—a symbol of his love. It brought him no such comfort this time.

Only silence lingered in the room. It was a dense silence, thick like a toxic fog– blinding him, stilling his already shattered breath.

The heat from Alexander's own body abruptly deserted him; as if the gods were sucking all the warmth from his flesh. His legs began crumpling beneath him.

Alexander never hesitated to attack his jungle enemies who rode enormous elephants while he was simply on horseback. Though fearless and ruthless in battle, Alexander was now petrified to merely turn around. He wanted only to continue revealing his thoughts to Hephaistion-- but this new anxiety was halting his lips. Dread seemed to drizzled down his back along with his sweat.

Alexander was never one to succumb to fear, no matter how grave. Thus, he swallowed hard and turned around.

Perhaps Zeus had dared to glance into Hephaistion's eyes, after all. For the gods always take their favorites first.

Alexander was swiftly at his friend's bed side. However, there was no need to check for a pulse. Hephaistion's beautiful face was as lifeless and pale as a marble statue.

Those radiant swirling seas had frozen completely over. The ice would never melt, no matter how long Alexander's heated arms embraced him. That amorous, mysterious soul was lost to that frozen wasteland forever.

Alexander sobbed hysterically, his rage intensifying as an agony he'd never known existed consumed his heart.

There was no longer anything worth living for in this world.

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_Crowded streets are cleared away one by one._

_Hollow hero's separate as they run._

_You're so cold, keep your hand in mine._

_Wise men wonder while strong men die._

_Show me how it ends- it's all right._

_Show me how defenseless you really are._

_Satisfied and empty inside._

_That's all right, let's give this another try. . ._

_If you find your family, don't you cry._

_In this land of make believe dead and dry._

_You're so cold, but you feel alive._

_Lay your hands on me one last time._

_Show me how it ends- it's all right._

_Show me how defenseless you really are._

_Satisfied and empty inside._

_That's all right, let's give this another try. . ._

_Show me how it ends- it's all right._

_Show me how defenseless you really are._

_Satisfied and empty inside._

_That's all right, let's give this another try. . ._

_It's all right. It's all right. It's all right. It's all right. It's all right. IT'S AL RIGHT. IT'S ALL RIGHT . . . it's all right.  
_

-- Above song lyrics from the song "SO COLD" by Breaking Benjamin.

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Thanks for reading my first short story. I decided not to continue on with Alexander's discovery of the poisoned drink. But I may write about that in a later story. I hope you liked it! –Maia's Pen


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